Iceburn
by SilverSeahorse
Summary: The future cheats us from afar:Nor can we be what we recall,Nor dare we think on what we are... An attack on Ross changes everything forever. RR, please read & review.
1. Chapter One: Thursday

**Iceburn**

**A/N:** This is my angst-ridden Friends fic. I'm sorry if that bothers anyone but something in me needs the release, and it's only fiction so if it's not to your taste, you don't have to read it. I'm hoping that people will, though, as I'm going to try my best not to make it so depressing that nobody is interested. That's not the purpose. The purpose is to show how love can survive even the harshest of times and the worst of odds, and stuff like this actually does happen in real life. The TV show is light and fluffy, because it's a comedy, but this isn't. I'm using the characters but changing the tone completely, and I don't own anything except original characters and places.

The fic overall is rated R for content, language and sexual scenes, not all of which are explicit but not all of which are consensual. You've been warned!

In this fic Ross never married Carol and has no children. Ross and Rachel are together and have never broken up (there has been no 'on a break') but Rachel still works at Central Perk, because I want her to. Monica and Chandler are not together – yet, and Phoebe and Joey are both single.

XXX is a break in the story where asterisks would normally be.

* * *

_They say that Hope is happiness –_

_But genuine Love must prize the past;_

_And Mem'ry wakes the thoughts that bless:_

_They rose the first – they set the last._

_And all that mem'ry loves the most_

_Was once our only hope to be:_

_And all that hope adorned and lost_

_Hath melted into memory._

_Alas! It is delusion all –_

_The future cheats us from afar:_

_Nor can we be what we recall,_

_Nor dare we think on what we are._

George Gordon, Lord Byron

* * *

**Chapter One – Thursday**

Ross hated Thursdays. It meant almost the weekend but not quite, so there was one more day of work to endure before he could spent time with his sister and friends and of course, his girlfriend Rachel. He had planned a romantic trip away as a surprise, and couldn't wait to get home and see the delight on her face when he produced the train tickets and told her to pack. He loved making Rachel smile; in his opinion, there was nothing better in the world. When she smiled, his heart filled with ecstasy, especially if he had been the one to elicit that reaction. She was so special, and some days Ross would spent hours simply wondering what he had done to make a woman as wonderful as Rachel fall in love with him.

It would be lovely to escape the city for a while, too. Ross had given a big televised speech on Monday night, and while it had been exciting at the time, now he was worn out from the travelling and preparation that went into something as important as that. He was looking forward to heading back to his sister Monica's apartment and finding warmth in Rachel's welcoming arms. That sweet thought kept a smile on his face as he rounded the corner to the bank. He'd decided to go during his lunch hour and withdraw a decent amount of money to spend on Friday, during and after the journey upstate. It was a pretty quiet village he and Rachel were going to, so he didn't want to have to hunt for a cash machine every five minutes when there probably wouldn't be one for miles. As long as he had enough in his pocket to see them through lunches and dinners, they would be fine.

Two hours later, Ross was as far from fine as it was possible to be, and nothing would ever be the same again.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Rachel laughed as Monica swatted her arm away, looking irritated. "For the hundredth time, no, I am not telling you!"

"Oh, come on!" Rachel said pleadingly, following her best friend to the sofa and sitting down beside her. "Please? How will I know what to pack?"

Monica rolled her eyes. "Rach, you'll have plenty of time to pack. How long does it take you, for God's sake?"

Rachel shrugged, reaching for the box of chocolate cookies on the table. "That depends on where we're going, doesn't it? And if you told me, I'd know, and then it would be sorted." She gave Monica her best puppy-dog expression, hoping it would weaken the resistance, but it was no use. Monica simply folded her arms and concentrated on the television.

This Thursday afternoon was so boring, Rachel thought, as she picked her way through her cookie. She didn't have to start work at the coffee house until that evening, while Monica had a day off from her catering business. The unofficial reason was that nobody had booked Monica for at least a week, but that wasn't to be mentioned in the flat. On top of all that, there was the fact that Rachel's boyfriend, Ross, was taking her away at the weekend but she didn't know where. The entire trip had been intended as a surprise, Rachel knew, but somehow Joey and Chandler, their friends across the hall, had let it slip, and since then Rachel had been pestering Monica to tell her the details. Monica had pointedly refused every time.

"Okay, I'll stop asking," Rachel said resignedly. "I'm just excited. I can't wait for Ross to get here so he can pretend to surprise me and we can plan stuff! You know, your brother is so great."

Monica looked at her and smiled. "He is pretty cool. To you, at least. Now, remember to act like you've no idea about the weekend when he tells you, otherwise he's gonna kill Chandler and Joey."

Rachel nodded. "Of course. I'll be the soul of discretion." She giggled. "I'm even picking up Ross' vocabulary!"

"That is worrying, on so many levels," Monica commented, before laughing too and helping herself to a cookie as the two girls fell to discussing the soap opera playing on TV.

XXXXXXXXXX

As Ross stumbled along the pavement, barely able to see where he was going, only one thought occupied his mind: Get to Phoebe's, get to Phoebe's. Her apartment was nearest, a couple of blocks away, not far, he had to keep going…

But it was so difficult, when every ounce of his body ached in ways he hadn't considered possible. Ordinarily, he would have worried about how other people were staring at him; now he barely registered that there were other people at all. He had to focus his energy before it disappeared completely…

Phoebe's building came into sight, and Ross forced himself there, all the time thinking, 'Get to Phoebe's, get to Phoebe's.' At a couple hundred yards he almost stopped, too fatigued to continue, but his stubbornness came into play from somewhere deep in his psyche and he made it to the front door. He managed to press the buzzer for Phoebe's apartment. He thought he heard her answer. It didn't matter, it was too late, everything went black.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Why do we always have to play Twister when you guys come over?" Rachel folded her arms and watched as Joey laid out the plastic mat on the floor. Monica was fetching crisps for them all and Chandler was holding the small board with the spinner on it, which decided whose hand or foot went where on the mat. Both he and Joey looked highly excited.

"Because it's a fun game," Joey said, almost-seriously, as he straightened up and accepted Monica's food gleefully.

"Or because they love staring at us in various compromising positions," Monica suggested airily, making Rachel chuckle.

"Yeah, that's more like it. Shouldn't we wait for Ross and Pheebs? They might want to play, too."

"But they're not even here," Chandler pointed out quickly. "I mean, they can join in when they arrive, and until then we can warm up."

Rachel exchanged a roll of the eyes with Monica, but they agreed to play and the game was started. It didn't take long for them all to get into tricky situations, and a couple of times Rachel nearly fell. She couldn't stop laughing as Joey tried to pull her legs from under her, and Monica slipped and landed on her bottom. It was only when a knock came from the front door that they paused and let Monica wriggle out to answer.

"Joey, no!" Rachel squealed as he achieved his aim and sent her to the ground, cushioning her fall and grinning wickedly at her. "It's a good thing Ross isn't here to see this," she mock-scolded, but Joey didn't respond. He was staring past Rachel to where Monica was now standing, and when Rachel glanced over, she realised why.

A police officer was talking in lowered tones to a stricken-looking Monica, and Rachel immediately sensed something was not right. Quickly, she scrambled to her feet and rushed over, followed closely by Joey and eventually a confused Chandler.

"Mon? What's going on?" Rachel asked, eyes flicking from her pale friend to the solemn officer. Her heart felt heavy in her chest as the reality hit her. Something had happened. She didn't know what, but it was a really bad something. She'd become almost extra-sensory where _he_ was concerned.

"It's Ross," Monica managed to croak out, her gaze never leaving the officer's rugged face. "He's… He was attacked…" She shook her head, unable to say any more. Rachel heard a gasp from behind her – she was sure it was Joey – and thought she might have reacted similarly if her body hadn't suddenly gone numb.

"What?" Her word came in a whisper; it was the most she could manage. "Where? How? Is he okay?" She directed these peppered questions at the officer, who finally acknowledged her presence and looked directly at her. "I'm his girlfriend," she added quietly, and somewhat defensively.

The officer nodded curtly. Rachel decided she didn't like him much. "Mr Geller is seriously injured in hospital," he said, and at this Rachel did gasp. "We think he was the victim of a sustained and brutal attack, although since we haven't been able to speak to him, we can't say exactly what happened."

"Oh my God." Chandler's voice came from somewhere, and Rachel was glad she didn't have to say anything. She didn't think she could. She could hardly think. "Where did this happen?"

"We don't know yet," the officer said shortly, as if annoyed with Chandler for daring to ask. "He was found at the apartment of a Miss Phoebe Buffay, who called the ambulance and told us to contact you, as his next of kin." That part was aimed at Monica, who nodded absently. "When he eventually wakes up, we'll be able to get a clearer picture of what happened. I'm sorry. I must go."

Rachel wanted to demand more answers, but the room was swaying dreadfully and she felt like she was floating. She screamed, and everything went black.

XXXXXXXXXX

"_He's useful."_

"_How do you know? Looks like upper-class shit to me. Bit of money, what's the big deal?"_

_The harsh voices traded off against each other, penetrating Ross' brain with a sharpness that made his eyes water. It might have been better if he had been able to see, but he doubted that almost as soon as he thought it. He wanted to be able to reason with these people; that would have been his normal recourse. _

"_Well Mac, I dunno about you, but I haven't had any in a while, and I'm gettin' restless."_

"_If you mean…"_

_The first was vicious, the second reluctant. Both were confusing. Ross hardly dared breathe in case it renewed their attentions, and he was physically broken enough as it was. All he could think about to make himself stronger was Rachel. The way she smiled, the way she tucked her hair behind her ears, the way she bit her lip when he made her come. Flashes raced through his mind as he struggled to stay conscious._

"_And what if I do? Don't fuckin' mess with me, Mac. Don't fuckin' tell me what I can and can't do. It's different when it's one you fancy, isn't it?" _

_The sneer scared Ross more than the words did. What were they capable of? He used to think everyone had a limit that could be tested but never breached. He was beginning to realise he might have been very wrong._

"_I didn't…"_

"_Shut the fuck up and hold him. I'm gonna need someplace to put this."_

_Put what? Ross was sure he was about to be shot, and when he heard what sounded like the clanking of metal, his whole body tensed. He sure as hell wasn't going to cry, but it was almost impossible not to make some sort of noise as he felt someone's hand touch the back of his neck…_

_What was going to happen? He dreaded to think…_

* * *

**A/N:** Yeah? No? Review pretty please - but no flaming, okay? ;) 


	2. Chapter Two: Delusion

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews for this story so far. In response to one reviewer, don't worry, I won't be killing Ross off! As I said before, it's definitely an angsty fic, but with time it'll get easier. I'm sure some of you have already figured out exactly what's going on here, but if you haven't then this chapter will reveal the truth, and you might not like it. I'm sorry in advance – that's just the way it is, I'm afraid. Maybe I'm mad for this but hey, it's my fic and I'll be mad if I want to ;) Just don't flame, kay?

Just for purposes of imagination, I'd put this fic in around Season 3 Ross&Rachel, when they were a perfectly happy couple and before the whole Rachel quitting/Mark-the-arse trying to steal her storyline came along. And also they were so damn cute back then! None of the previous Friends storylines on the show have happened in this fic-world but in case you wanted to visualise how I was seeing the characters looks-wise, that's where I'm at. ;)

Oh and if anyone is reading my other R&R fic, Crazy Love, it'll be updated much more often than this one, as it's so much easier to write. This one always has to wait until my depressive mood has taken hold, lol.

* * *

_Swiftly walk o'er the western wave,_

_Spirit of Night!_

_Out of the misty eastern cave_

_Where, all the long and lone daylight_

_Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear,_

_Which make thee terrible and dear,_

_Swift be thy flight!_

Percy Bysshe Shelley

**Chapter Two – Delusion**

_Rachel giggled as Ross brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek, then travelling down to her lips. She sighed as he lightly ran his other hand down her arm, across to her breast, settling into the touch there. Nothing was as perfect as these moments they shared together, and Rachel felt nothing short of a goddess when she watched him treat her with something close to reverence. Nobody before Ross had taken the time to ask what Rachel liked, what she didn't like, what she would like, what he could do to make her happier… Rachel wanted to explain to him that HE made her happy, and she didn't want anything more, but it was so difficult to put that feeling into words, especially when he was kissing her and making her laugh, then smile, then moan, then cry._

"_Rachel, you know I love you, right?" he'd ask, anxious for her answer, afraid she might have changed her mind. She never did._

"_Of course I know, Ross. And you know I love you, too, don't you?" She'd lean in and kiss him gently, as if presenting solid evidence that she was telling the truth. "Because I do. I love you so much."_

_He'd smile and pull her closer, kissing her lips, her nose, her eyes, her forehead. She'd close her eyes as he worked his way down her body, adoring every inch as if he'd never seen it before. She never knew what she had done to deserve this, to deserve him, but she never asked. _

_Sometimes he asked, and she'd have to tell him. She'd feel embarrassed, because he was the smart one, and she wasn't great with words when it came to expressing stuff like complicated feelings, or at least she didn't think she was great. She wanted to tell him in a beautiful way he'd remember forever, but all she could do was blurt out a list of reasons she loved him. He always seemed satisfied, though, and she'd tell him to make love to her afterwards, to reaffirm their belief in one another. _

"_Promise me," she'd whisper, when they were both still flush from lovemaking, "promise me you'll never let me go."_

_His mouth would be close to her ear, and when he spoke it gave her shivers down her spine. "I promise, Rachel. I'll never let you go."_

_And she believed him._

* * *

Rachel's eyes flew open. She couldn't remember what had woken her, except that she'd been falling through a black tunnel. It took her a few moments to gather her bearings, and sitting up, she realised she had been asleep on the couch in her apartment. It took her another few moments for her mind to turn to Ross, and for her to recall what had happened to him. She immediately felt sick at the thought of him being hurt and needing her, and wondered, with increasing anger, why she was still here when everyone else appeared to have gone. She was his girlfriend! Why hadn't they waited?

Rachel got to her feet, throwing off the blanket someone had placed over her, and ran to her room, grabbing the first comfortable pair of shoes she came across. She pulled on her coat and rubbed her sleepy eyes before going back into the living room, trying to think if she needed to take anything else. Panic was starting to fill her and she felt disorientated, staring around the room as if it held the answers she wanted.

"Rach? What are you doing?"

Rachel whirled around to see Joey coming out of the bathroom, looking concernedly at her.

"I'm going to see Ross," she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "What else would I be doing? I can't believe they all went without me, how dare they." Her random anger was returning – it was better than the panic.

"Rachel, you fainted and we put you on the couch. Monica wanted to go because Ross is her brother, and Chandler went with her. I said I'd stay and keep an eye on you. No one just went without you."

Rachel sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Ok, Joey, thanks, I appreciate it, but can we go now, please? I have to see him; I need to know what's wrong."

Joey didn't look as if he agreed this was the best idea, but Rachel ignored him and dragged him towards the door. She didn't care that she'd fainted and didn't feel very good. That was hardly important when Ross was in hospital. Didn't anybody realise how much she needed him?

"Come on, then." Joey shut the apartment door behind them and he and Rachel headed off to the hospital, Rachel trembling more the closer they got.

* * *

Ross is awake, but he doesn't dare open his eyes. He hears the voices, but he doesn't want to see the faces. His mind is a blur of sound and colour, and it is making him feel dizzy, even though he knows he is lying down. Every part of him hurts like nothing he has ever experienced before, and that frightens him, especially the one part that _really_ hurts beyond all else. It keeps changing from a sharp stab to a dull ache, and he wants so badly for it to stop. For it all to stop. He wants to shut himself off from everybody and forget he even existed. He can't speak to his sister and his friends – not now. What would they think of him? And Rachel… Rachel had always been too good for him, and now it has been proved. If he wasn't so tired, he'd consider apologising. But his brain is overloading with unpleasant sensations, and he wants to sleep, so he blocks out the noise and falls again into sweet, welcoming blackness.

* * *

Rachel practically sprinted down the long corridor, skidding as she turned into another, resisting the urge to call out Ross' name and hope he might answer back. Joey was somewhere behind her, shouting at her to slow down, but she didn't pay attention. He didn't have a clue how she was feeling.

It couldn't have been longer than five minutes, yet to Rachel it seemed like hours had passed by the time she finally reached Ross' private room. She stood outside the door, next to which his name was tacked, as if the room held him prisoner. Her hand hovered over the handle while she made a valiant attempt to catch her breath – it had been a long time since she'd done much running, unless she counted mad races in the park with Phoebe.

Phoebe. Rachel knew she'd be in there now, along with Monica and Chandler, sitting by Ross' bed and keeping him company. Maybe they would be crying. Rachel didn't want to cry. All she wanted to do was kiss her boyfriend and tell him everything was going to be ok. She was certain it would be; after all, he was the strongest person she knew.

"Rach!" Joey had caught up with her at last, and was red in the face from chasing her. "What's going on?"

She didn't even look at him, but kept staring at the wooden door, slightly apprehensive about what she might see behind it. "Nothing," she said shortly, and then opened the door, stepping inside.

The room wasn't very brightly-lit, and for this Rachel was grateful. She was developing a headache already without adding to its pressure with harsh glares. Her gaze lifted and fell upon the clinical bed in the centre of the room, in which Ross was sleeping. The drip in his arm unnerved her a little, though as she neared the bed she realised the bandages covering his head were the things she was actually freaked out by. He looked in so much pain, even though his eyes were closed and no expression crossed his face. She could just tell he wasn't right, by looking at him from a distance. There was something distinctly wrong, but she didn't know what. Lovers' intuition – she wondered if that was even possible.

"Hey." A stricken-looking Phoebe stood up from where she had been sitting in a hard plastic chair beside the bed. She walked over to Rachel and hugged her close; immediately Rachel felt a bit of her anxiety dissipate. Being with the people she loved was making things slightly more bearable. "Are you ok?"

Rachel nodded. She wanted to ask Phoebe what had happened and how she'd found Ross, but no words came at that moment. Instead, Rachel moved next to Ross and stared down at his unconscious form. He looked sore, with cuts and bruises on the visible parts of his face, and a slash down his right arm. Quietly, Rachel reached out and covered his warm hand with her own shaking one. She squeezed gently, hoping that on some level it might provide comfort for him.

"The doctor's coming to speak to us soon." Monica's weak voice broke through the silence, making Rachel look up and over at her best friend. She'd almost forgotten how much this had to be affecting Monica as well, being Ross' sister, and gave her a small smile. "We were hoping you'd be here by now."

Rachel nodded again, noticing Chandler holding Monica's hands and letting her rest against his shoulder. That was sweet, Rachel mused, selfishly glad that someone else was able to concentrate on Monica. All Rachel had the capacity to think about was herself and her true love, whose hand remained linked with hers as she sat down in the uncomfortable chair and led them all into another eerie silence.

* * *

_Ross could hardly believe it when the pain ripped through him, bringing unintended tears to his eyes and forcing them to fall, unbidden. He'd considered every possible outcome to this encounter, or he'd thought he had. It turned out he had forgotten something. He didn't reckon anyone would blame him for forgetting, really. The chances of someone doing this… They mustn't be very high. What were the statistics? He ought to know, he was a scientist, this is the kind of fact he'd be boring everyone with in the coffee house. Except he knew he never would have, because he wasn't sick. _

_Diversion of thought wasn't working. Pain was coursing through his body with every movement. He wanted to scream, but he sternly told himself not to. He couldn't ever demonstrate a loss of control. Obviously, he'd lost control a very long time ago, but he didn't need to reinfornce that. He just had to keep thinking of other things, try his hardest to ignore the stabbing…_

_Rachel. Gorgeous, sweet, amazing Rachel. Rachel's hair, Rachel's eyes, Rachel's nose, Rachel's lips, Rachel's chin, Rachel's neck, Rachel's breasts, Rachel's belly button, Rachel's hips, Rachel's thighs, Rachel's ankles, Rachel's toes…_

_Rachel would never love him after this._

_Yes, she would. Rachel would never let him go._

_Ross screamed._

* * *

Rachel only stirred when she heard Monica get up and greet the doctor. Briefly, she turned her head to take in the sight of the balding man in his forties shaking Monica's hand, and then she returned to Ross, who was breathing evenly and deeply. Rachel saw this as a good sign. She wanted him to sleep and recover, and then wake up and kiss her. Their lives would go back to normal and they'd live happily ever after. Rachel wished she could believe her own rhetoric.

"Miss Greene?" The doctor had approached her, and was looking at her kindly through his half-moon spectacles. "Could I have a word with you too?"

"Sure." Rachel reluctantly laid Ross' hand back on the bed, and followed Monica, Chandler, Phoebe and Joey out of the room, along the corridor to another, smaller room. This one was termed 'Relatives' Room' and was homely-decorated with fake flowers and dusky-pink sofas. As Rachel sat down beside Joey, she couldn't help noticing how serious the doctor's face had suddenly become, and fear rose inside her like restless lava, waiting to bubble up at whatever news she was about to be told. Without thinking, she grabbed Joey's hand.

Ross knew it was safe to open his eyes, but he didn't dare. He was equally afraid of being alone as of being with people, and he had the suspicion that waking up properly might spur his body into even more pain. He didn't feel up to taking that chance, so he lay there with his eyes shut, wondering how they were all taking the news. He didn't think anyone would react well. Monica would be horror-struck and probably break down crying with the shock. Chandler and Joey wouldn't be able to say anything; they would just be thinking how they'd better stop hanging out with him, just in case. Phoebe - Ross wasn't entirely sure how Phoebe would react. She was the constant surprise. Yet even she would more than likely think how awful and disgusting it was, and maybe rethink her position as his friend. He wouldn't blame her in the slightest. And Rachel… It was too disturbing to imagine the consequences of her finding out. Ross wondered how long she'd stick around before realising he wasn't worth it any more. She was a good person, so he knew she'd try at first, but she'd never manage it. Hell, he wasn't sure _he_ could manage it.

And the doctor would wheel out the statistics that he, Ross, should have already known, and explain how it wasn't the end of the world, and that with treatment and support and love, there was the probability of a total and full recovery. The doctor would add that this sort of crime – perhaps he'd use the word 'attack' – was extremely rare and that Ross had merely been unlucky. In the wrong place at the wrong time. Ross would have to agree with that. He'd believed it in the case of women and now he had to apply the same logic to himself. Rape was random and a bad-luck consequence.

Supposedly.

Ross wasn't so sure.

* * *

**A/N:** Reviews are, as always, much appreciated. 


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